


Dragonmaw Stables

by Anonymous



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Foreplay, Heterosexual Sex, Light Bondage, Orcs, Power Dynamics, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 23:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Zaela is giving Garrosh a tour of the stables where Galakrond and the other protodrakes are kept prior to the Siege of Orgrimmar, but they get distracted by some intriguing props as she shows her Warchief how to tame a ferocious beast...





	Dragonmaw Stables

The Warchief was inspecting the protodragon forces that, along with the coastal cannons, would be the first line of defense against the inevitable Alliance invasion.

Warlord Zaela marched at his side, pointing out different aspects of the operations, berating troops who were slacking, and being every bit as formal and respectful as he would expect from one of his commanders.

They weren't exactly keeping their relationship a secret, per se, but both were adamant about it not affecting their duties to the Horde. Out here among the engines of war and ranks of soldiers, they were all business.

The Durotar sun blazed down, and they paused in the shade cast by the hastily-erected stables. Most of the protodragons in the Dragonmaw forces stayed outside, but the shelter was large enough for a few to be inside, where they could be tied down and fitted with saddles and armor, or treated for wounds. Presently only one of the smaller animals was inside, recovering from a sprained wing.

Zaela led Garrosh inside, bragging about the might of her forces. She picked up a dead boar from a trough just inside the door and hurled it over the stall door to where the injured drake was resting. It scrambled forward with a greedy snarl and devoured the carcass whole.

It was only then, as they stood watching the beast chewing its meal, that they realized they were alone.

"You've done well," Garrosh said quietly. It was not an idle compliment given out of personal fondness. He meant it as the Warchief speaking to a commander, and that made it all the sweeter.

Her chest swelled with pride. "For the Horde," she said with a grin.

His immense hand came to rest on her shoulder, the one that did not have a pauldron on it. The shadows inside the stable had cooled the sun's warmth from her skin, but as his strong fingers traced down her arm a different kind of heat began to smolder.

She simply stood there as he leaned against her from behind, wondering how far he would go when they might be interrupted at any moment by a stablehand or a guard.

The stubble on his chin scratched her bare shoulder as he planted a kiss on her neck. One hand came around the opposite side to cup her breast, and she made an almost imperceptible noise of appreciation deep in her throat.

His mouth found her ear, teasing her silver earrings and playfully nipping at her skin. With one hand still squeezing her breast, he sent the other down her side, slipping a finger between her tunic and her belt. The heat of his callused fingers against her abdomen made a small gasp escape her.

She was expecting him to yank her trousers down and have his way with her right there against the stable wall, and as her pulse quickened in response to his caresses she would not have protested in the slightest.

Yet he took a step back, strolling in a nonchalant manner over to where the smiths would fit protodragons with their barding and saddles. Huge chains and leather straps lay strewn across the dirt floor. Dried patches of orcish blood were scattered around the area, as well, where careless trainers had been too slow or too trusting with their draconic charges.

Garrosh stooped to pick up an enormous manacle designed to bind the back feet of a protodragon. "Powerful beasts," he mused. "The Dragonmaw are fierce warriors, to subjugate such...primal forces."

Zaela sauntered over, starting to guess where his mind was going. "I've never yet met a wild beast who couldn't be tamed with the right combination of restraint and Dragonmaw ingenuity." She picked up a leather whip that lay discarded on the ground.

Garrosh's lower lip curled into a wicked smile. "Perhaps a demonstration is in order," he nearly purred.

She raised an eyebrow, feeling her heart begin to race with the possibilities.

He approximated his earlier formality despite the gleam in his eyes. "Now, Warlord, show me how your clan breaks these beasts."

"Of course, my Warchief," she said, saluting. "First we make sure they are properly tied down so they cannot flee or slash out with their claws." She took the giant manacle from him and knelt to clamp it around his calf. Despite being a formidable physical specimen of an orc, his legs were significantly smaller than a protodrake's, so he could easily have stepped out of the metal restraint. He played along, however, letting her place a second manacle on his other leg.

"And then?"

She circled him slowly, admiring him from every angle. "Then we bind their necks," she said deviously, holding up a length of chain with links the size of her hands. In actuality, they used an even bigger chain for that, but this was more managable for her purposes.

Zaela looped the chain around his neck and jerked him down onto his stomach. It wasn't attached to anything, but the mere weight of the metal gave the illusion of tying him down.

Garrosh was on his hands and knees now, his commanding attitude beginning to crumble as desire lit up his eyes. "And then?"

"Then we measure them for their saddles and armor." She took a long leather strap and wound it around his midsection. Marks were seared into the strap at regular intervals to help the armor makers measure the girth of the dragons. Zaela draped herself over him from behind, taking her time in counting out each increment, letting her hands linger against the bare skin of his torso. She not-so-accidentally brushed one hand across the front of his pants and found just what she expected there.

"Hmm...perhaps I should measure that, too," she teased, sliding onto the ground beside him.

He inhaled sharply as she opened the flap of his pants to free his erection.

"We do inspect our mounts very carefully to make sure they are in good health," Zaela said as if she were making casual conversation. "Looks like a very...strong specimen here." She lightly squeezed his swollen genitals before standing up again.

Garrosh was watching her every move with barely-restrained lust. "What if the beast...misbehaves?" His voice was huskier now as his breathing grew faster.

Zaela squatted in front of him, lifting his face with a hand under his tattooed chin. "Then he must be punished," she said mischieveously. "Sometimes a light blow on the haunches is enough to bring them in line." She took the leather whip and used the handle to strike him across the buttocks. His thick leather pants protected him from what she had deliberately made a weak blow, but he hissed appreciatively.

"A gentle tap like that would never tame a wild creature," he hinted, raising his ass invitingly.

"Very true, my Warchief," she said. "Sometimes one must be a bit more...firm." She roughly pulled his pants down to expose his tense cheeks, then smacked him again with the whip handle.

He grunted. "Again," he growled.

She struck him a bit harder this time, enough to leave a subtle mark that soon faded.

He moaned. "Harder."

Zaela felt a dangerous thrill shoot up her spine at the thought of causing him pain. Him. The Warchief of the Horde. Garrosh, son of Grom. She swung the leather handle again, watching in delight as his asscheeks jiggled from the impact. He gave no indication that he wanted her to stop, so she continued striking him, never hard enough to break the skin, but certainly enough to sting.

The gutteral noises he was making were the same ones he made while rutting on top of her, and they combined with the smell of his sweat and the sight of his trembling ass to make her so turned on she could hardly think.

"Is the beast tamed now?" she asked, arm shaking as she lifted the whip handle to spank him again.

"Still just as wild as ever," he panted.

"One doesn't want to be too rough with their mount," she said, massaging the sore-looking skin on his cheeks. "It has to be left in good enough condition to ride."

"Try me," he gasped.

She straddled him with her legs around his waist and her hands flat against his broad shoulders. "A sturdy beast," she mused. She began to rock back and forth, grinding her pelvis down against his lower back, trying to rub away at least a little of the overwhelming need for him.

Garrosh let her "ride" him for a little while longer, swaying along with her. His engorged penis brushed against her feet as she locked her ankles across his stomach. He gasped and pushed forward until they touched again, squirming in increasing desire.

Their little game had been titillating fun, but it was time for the main event. With a feral growl, he slipped the chain off his neck and stepped out of one of the manacles. He seized her in his arms, licking more than kissing as his mouth traveled across her face and neck, and laid her on her back in the dirt. She helped him remove her pants and eagerly spread her legs. Much as she knew he admired her breasts, he did not bother with her tunic. What he needed was further down, and he was half-mad with desperation for it.

He lined up his organ with her dilated opening and thrust into her with a decisive jerk of his hips. She gasped in pleasure and clung to his muscled shoulders. He pounded into her with animalistic hunger, growling and grunting. She responded in kind, biting his ear and clenching around his rod in time with his thrusts.

They were both in such a heightened state of arousal that climax came quickly, almost simultaneously. Zaela arched her back and choked back a scream that would have alerted the entire camp. Her body spasmed inside and out, combusting in the heat of his attentions. Garrosh bore down with a gutteral groan, bowing his head against her chest to muffle his cry of ecstasy as his release surged into her core. They writhed together until his shaft went soft, then lay in a daze of sweat and pleasure for several minutes more, panting for breath and moaning wordless compliments.

At last Zaela sat up and reached for her pants. "There's more than one way to tame a wild beast," she said with a smirk.

He matched her expression, leering up at her from where he reclined on the floor, knees apart to give her a good view. "You're the expert."

She laughed and looked very proud of herself.


End file.
